


If The Sky Be Blue

by freddiejoey



Category: Arthur of the Britons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:09:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24038671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freddiejoey/pseuds/freddiejoey
Summary: Mark knows he's on to something juicy...…...
Kudos: 1





	If The Sky Be Blue

If the Sky be Blue 

“Uncle Arthur.” Theo and Cedric thrust their wind-tousled heads around the longhouse doors. “A messenger from Cornwall. Cousin Mark is coming to visit.” Arthur looks up from where he is carving a large drinking horn at the longhouse table. “Alright boys thank you.” It'll be interesting to hear what Mark has been doing with Cerdig’s Thurstan, silly young fool. At last report he had handed the featherbrained Saxon over to Herrick, who was keeping Thurstan busy chopping up his wife’s vegetables and cleaning his family’s muddy boots. One toad tormenting another. 

Kai hears them as he comes out of the bedroom, hauling one of the chests that needs fresh nailing. Still today his muscles are rasping in protest. Yesterday afternoon Lenni had asked him to come up to her hut – a smoking fireplace apparently. However both hearths had actually been in perfect working order, although other things had certainly been flaring……a fiery succubus that woman, eagle stones and all.

“Hey, you two.” Cedric reappears. “Daddy?” Setting the splintery chest in the middle of the floor, Kai smiles quietly to himself. “Did the messenger say when Mark was arriving?” 

A narrowing of nine-year-old brown eyes in concentration. “Tomorrow or the day after. He might see Hereward the Holy on the way.”

Llud gives a derisory snort of laughter. “Then Mark won’t be here inside a week. That old fool will prattle on until the snows come.” He gathers up the rush dips that he has been peeling. “Anyway, Mark will bring two or three of his men. Wait a minute boys. You can come up to the store hut with me. We’ll need to bring down some more game.” Pausing to don his furry cloak – it is full autumn now and the days are becoming brisk – Llud strides outside.

Once he is gone, Arthur studies Kai thoughtfully. “And exactly what would you be scheming big brother? You know, I can’t think of any really urgent reason for Mark giving us the pleasure of his company - although he’ll no doubt bluster some story about studying the new treaty with Cerdig, when he knows very well that it’s all in order. Probably Eithna has sent him off for a spell now that he’s not hobbling any more.” 

Pouring two cups of mead, Kai sits down beside him. “I’m simply pondering beloved….last time we were in Cornwall, Mark was delighting in making certain veiled remarks. I just thought, since all the treaty making is over now…….. it might be……..timely to teach him a few lessons.” His brown eyes twinkle over the rim of his cup.

Arthur grins elfishly. “But, Kai my heart, everything he was hinting at was perfectly true.” Draining his mead, Kai grins back, sighing in contented anticipation. “Little brother, you know that and I know that. But Mark only thinks he knows it. Besides he has no business poking his bushy nose in where it’s not wanted. We don’t try and find out what goes on behind his longhouse doors. In fact, the less I know about him and Eithna when the candles are blown out, the better.” 

He clinks his mead cup teasingly against Arthur’s, teasingly kisses his delicious mouth. “You do realise don’t you, that most of this annoying curiosity is because Eithna was madly in love with you – still is according to Lenni and Rowena – and because, one night a lifetime ago, she and I shared a bed. Time all this nonsense was crushed once and for all. So my darling, by the time Mark goes home again, he won’t even be sure if the sky is really blue………”

“Mark” Llud holds out his good hand cheerfully to the dismounting King of Cornwall. “Welcome. I’ll see to your saddlebags and those of your warriors. Have them taken up to the guest quarters. Arthur and Kai will be sorry they missed your arrival.” He beams and calls for a few stable boys to come and help. 

Mark gazes about shrewdly. Rowena trips around the side of the longhouse with her daughters and Maeve. She halts abruptly, none too pleased at Mark’s presence. The nipping wind blows her tunic flat against her stomach and Mark takes a second intent look, then a third. “You’re whelping again. Arthur’s been a busy boy as he?.” With her sweetest smile, Rowena nods. “Yes, how observant of you Mark. In a few months, you and I will be exactly the same size and shape.” 

Inclining her head politely, she shoos the girls ahead of her towards Lenni’s hut – as Mark turns a vehement purple. Kaitlin and Maeve glance at each other quizzically. “Auntie Wena?” Kai’s daughter wrinkles her brow. “Was that a rude thing to say?” Happily, Rowena sets Shannyn down in a corner to play and hands the other two a pile of thyme and rosemary to sort. “Oh I certainly hope so little petal. I meant every barbed word to hit its target.”

Furiously, Mark struts up to where Llud is still organising the guest quarters. “Kai and Arthur? Where are they?” 

Llud carefully puts down a heap of blankets on one of the beds. "Actually, they’re up on the northern ridge repairing some of the fences. Our best shorthorn cattle are penned there – such an adventurous breed.” 

Suddenly Mark seems much more lively. “They’re five or six leagues from the village……alone………fencing you say.” Helpfully Llud repeats the information. “Yes, the northern ridge………..past the great oak forest……..and quite alone I think. After all, they should be quite familiar with the work they’re engaged in after all these years.”

At first, Mark thinks he has triumphed. There is Kai, lean golden chest on show to the world, laughing uproariously and bending over……..a large stack of oak limbs, stripping them of leaves and spindly branches. A few feet away, Arthur – who never appears eager to show his naked chest in public and so is still fully clothed – robustly hammers two stakes crosswise. They look up, grinning widely as Mark canters over the slope. 

“It’s good to see you Mark. But then it always is. I trust Eithna and the children are well.” Kai claps him soundly on the back. Arthur holds out a spare mallet. “How brotherly of you to ride up here to help. Later I’ll tell you all more about what happened when Cerdig signed the treaty – quite a tale that is and you’ll only have heard Thurstans’s skewed version. However, first things first.” 

He gestures, smiling, toward the huge mound of saplings awaiting implantation. “These will be set in place well before dinner time with your assistance.” Silently gritting his teeth, Mark grimaces, goes to roll up his sleeves – remembers that he rarely wears any- and begins to swing his mallet.

“Lenni, my pretty, that was excellent roast venison. It could tempt a man to never stop eating and grow fat.” Kai pats his perfectly thin, flat belly appreciatively, winking at Lenni who turns back to the hearth, biting her lip. “Didn’t you think so Mark?” Wearied from his long, unexpected afternoon of manual labour, Mark nods vaguely, already yawning. Banging fence posts hadn’t been the sort of banging he had been seeking to interrupt – or join in. 

Whispering something to Rowena, Arthur rises to his feet. “Big brother? Would you like to walk the palisade with me?” Affably, Kai nods. “Of course Arthur. We may have an alliance with the Saxons now, but we must still be wary of the Picts and those sneaky Scots.” 

From under hooded lids, Mark watches them retrieve their cloaks, joking and cuffing each other softly. All at once he is much less tired. Perhaps…… He waits for what he deems a reasonable time, having been inveigled into telling Luc and Kai’s boys about how he confronted Horgren at Baden Hill. Then he excuses himself and slips out into the starry night, as if to visit the privy.

It’s a full moon – good, quite easy to see then………….now, where?..........ah, over there in the shadows cast by the stables, leaning on the palisade, obviously finished their inspection and sharing a lovey-dovey moment in the moonlight. Stealthily Mark creeps from hut to hut, past the weapons store, until he is only a few feet away from Kai and Arthur, concealed by a hillock of straw. He has always been light- and fleet-footed for such a bulky man………

An arm slung warmly around Arthur’s shoulders, Kai is pressed against his brother’s thigh, murmuring something in a low voice. Straining to hear, Mark makes out a few words and grins gleefully in excitement. “Tomorrow………..we will need the big tub………..plenty of hot water.” Arthur chuckles quietly. “………and make sure we bar the doors………most important………” Kai pulls Arthur just a tiny bit closer. “So………kind of scented oil………you know how I like……lemon?” Nestling in, Arthur puts his lips against Kai’s ear. “ That’s wonderful…….but I think……….for our purposes…….. definitely rose.” Almost swooning with exhilaration, Mark silently retraces his footsteps. Now, he only needs to be cagey and bide his opportunity tomorrow.

Furthermore, it seems that the gods are irrefutably on Mark’s side the next morning. Llud invites him to attend the village boys’ riding drill with Kai’s elder sons – an offer he regretfully declines - he watches Rowena and Kaitlin saunter into the woods with a large basket, clearly leaving only Lenni up in her hut with the younger children. And when Mark tries the main longhouse doors a little while later, they are firmly barred from the inside………

Unlike the outer bedroom doors however……….He cannot believe his luck. This is the day when finally all will be revealed - in more ways than one – and all his suspicions will be vindicated.

Even from inside the sleeping chamber, he can hear Kai’s unmistakeable laugh and Arthur’s answering chuckle, the slosh of brimming water, the sweet aroma of rose oil. Tut, tut………you would think they would be just a little more discreet but perhaps they have simply grown complacent with the passing years. Straightening his shoulders jubilantly, Mark prepares to make a dramatic entrance, takes a deep breath, pulls open the inner bedroom doors – and stops dead in his tracks, gapping…….

There are Arthur and Kai, both stripped to the waist today, there is a large wooden tub full of hot water in front of a roaring fire, aromatic with heady rose fragrances – but under one arm Kai holds a squirming Ren, Arthur is attempting to dress an exuberant Shannyn while Maeve and Luc are splashing energetically in the bath. 

“ Why hello Mark. Were you looking for us? Well you’ve found us - and just at the right moment. Sorry we had to bar the main doors but these are too precious to let escape.” Kai gives a dazzling smile. “No doubt you’re used to this sort of thing with your Tristram and Iseult. Here, put some clothes on this one will you while I look after these two monkeys.” He starts telling Luc and Maeve to settle down, less leaping and more washing –and, without warning, Mark finds himself clutching a naked, writhing Ren.

Over the King of Cornwall’s affronted shoulder, Ren gives his father and uncle a gummy, delighted grin. Then solemnly he regards the stranger holding him at arm’s length, carefully scrutinising a new face he has never encountered so close before. 

Hmmmmmm……….. That’s certainly different. With one plump hand, Ren reaches out and grabs a fistful of Mark’s beard, yanking with all his six-month strength. 

“Ouch! That hurt” Mark scowls ruefully. ‘Look Kai, I really don’t think…….” Hurriedly Arthur interrupts him, extricating Shannyn’s head from the armhole of her woollen smock. “I’d put on his fleece right away if I were you Mark or he will be liable to……….do precisely that” – as a fountain of fresh golden urine douses his Cornish cousin’s studded leather jerkin and Ren gives another triumphant, toothless grin….

Actually Kai is rather surprised that Mark does not ask Lenni to launder the pissy garment. Instead one of Mark’s men is seen furtively bearing the sodden leather down to the river bank – while afterwards it twists jauntily in the gusty autumn breeze, hanging from a hook outside the guest quarters. Nothing more is said on the subject when Mark appears for supper in another sleeveless leather tunic, this one decorated in ornate silver garnishing.

From his seat at the end of the table, Mark irascibly eyes Ren where he sits crowing in his father’s lap. Bloody baby. Bloody Kai and Arthur. They can’t be on to him…….they simply can’t and yet………

Then he notices the two of them, heads together again, whispering. Surreptitiously he shuffles further up the bench, relieved when Llud gets up with his granddaughters and he can slide closer. Pretending to be interested in the platter of fruit Lenni has placed on the table, he leans forward, idly selecting a bunch of grapes, one rosy apple, then a second, then a third. 

Suddenly Mark freezes, enraptured, because he has just heard Kai murmur the most wondrous of magic incantations 

“………the hiding place by the river………tomorrow afternoon.”………He and Arthur smile at each other in carefree collusion and Mark’s heart begins to thud excitedly within his hefty chest.

Tomorrow then will finally be the occasion for astounding unveilings and swaggering vindication. There will be no escape from this hidey hole. His quarry will be well and truly cornered, their – undoubtedly rampant - spears blunted in the face of his extraordinary victory. Grinning blithely, Mark wishes everyone a very good night and practically dances back through the dark to his bed.

He sees the white horse and the black gallop off the next day shortly after noon. Alright, let them get a little way ahead, let them arrive at the hiding place and settle, in fact let them get very comfortable and confident………and then………oh deary me………..

Fidgeting for an hour, Mark loiters outside the longhouse, making an appropriate noise every now and then as Llud reminiscences about campaigning with his father Aberthol. All very interesting and normally he would be enthralled with stories about the late King of Cornwall’s courage, but just not today, right now, this minute.

At last, he politely excuses himself, saying that he needs to check that all is well with his horses. Journey home tomorrow, you know. Two days astride. Everything must be in order. Sidling like a demented crab, Mark escapes to the stables. It’s a good thing that he doesn’t see the wily shake of Llud’s head or his knowledgeable smile.

The white horse and the black are cropping the grass tranquilly near the hiding place, almost concealed by the bushy river undergrowth. Less sharp eyes might have missed them altogether - but not the shrewd gaze belonging to Mark of Cornwall. Soundlessly he tethers his own horse and skulks toward the leafy shelter where Kai once harboured poor Roland. There are faint sounds coming from inside……soft murmurs……..a decidedly sultry chuckle……….muted chinks (wooden mead cups being clinked together or something else altogether more arousing…….?)

Emitting a mighty yell, Mark leaps headfirst into the hiding place. Kai and Arthur look up in confusion, reaching instinctively for their weapons. They are both fully clothed – in fact they are even swathed in blankets against the chilly day. And they are both sitting cross-legged………playing chess. That would explain the hushed knocking of wood against wood.

“Is something wrong Mark?” Arthur appears seriously startled. "Has the village been attacked?” Breathing strenuously, Mark makes an emphatic gesture of dissent. Brown eyes dancing, Kai laughs. “Llud sent you didn’t he?…..the cunning old fox. He’ll try anything.”

Now it is Mark’s turn to be genuinely confused. “Llud?” Placing a kindly hand on Mark’s arm, Arthur draws him down to the ground, watching carefully as Kai moves one of his rooks and their game resumes. “Yes…….you see Llud is the undisputed chess champion of the longhouse. Kai and I have to come out here to practise or he spies on us incessantly. The only way one of us will ever be able to beat him is by stealth.” 

Cupping his chin in his hands, Kai smiles across at his little brother. “Oh Arthur, Mark already knows all this…….he’s obviously Llud’s scout ………although we’ll never get him to admit it. You’re a sly one Mark. No robber-flies on you are there.?” And the mighty King of Cornwall decides it is far safer to maintain a dignified silence.

The next morning, just after daybreak, Arthur and Rowena stand at the palisade to see Mark and his men off. “It’s been wonderful Mark.” Arthur grins happily at his cousin. ‘You must come and visit again soon. Mustn’t he Rowena?” She makes some sort of noise between a grunt and a sniff, giving her viperish smile. Mark notices that Arthur has an arm around her waist. Thoughtfully he strokes his beard. The feeling of having been efficiently swindled is overwhelming.

“Yes, well, thank you for your hospitality. I’ll keep tending Thurstan for you as long as need be. You all must come to Cornwall in the spring. Enjoy the warmth” Reining in his horse, Mark hopes that he seems sufficiently placatory. Nodding pleasantly, Arthur watches the Cornish party canter toward the woods. “God speed Mark. My best to Eithna and the children.” His voice echoes across the mist wreathing the river. One fond cousin cordially farewelling another.

Down beside the water Mark looks back. He can see Llud walking hand-in-hand with Olwen toward the store hut with their usual retinue of grandchildren (well, nothing unusual there, he has always been certain that Llud’s longhouse doesn’t lean)……….Kai helping Lenni through the mud, carrying a string of rabbits………Arthur still standing at the palisade gate with Rowena, smiling, one hand on her swelling stomach…………all ringing stubbornly true……

With a hefty kick for encouragement, Mark’s brawny horse begins to gallop south. Something’s wrong. He has been so sure for years……..all the signs are there……….and he has seen things that were just slightly askew……….yes, he knows he has……….he can recall a dozen with just a snap of his fingers…………no doubt at all……….as certain as he, Mark of Cornwall, is the strongest king in the west………as certain as the sky is bl-

Grey. When he glances up the sky is a bleak, leaden, grey, stretching like a murky tapestry toward the hazy horizon, not a spot, not a single solitary dribble of blue to be seen anywhere……..

Kai lies back in contented bliss, licking the last of Arthur’s juicy come from his lips. By all that’s holy, he loves that taste – and it just seems to grow more aromatic with time………brine and syrup………musk and relish………delicious beyond measure……..

He turns over, wrapping his warm body around his little brother’s. “Oh my Kai …..wait.” Arthur is still busily cleansing his fingers with a wet rag. “Your appreciation can be somewhat…….sticky.” Smiling, he throws the rag among the rushes. “I’ll burn that later. After all, we’re supposed to be clearing out the guest quarters, not making them more untidy.”

His big brother chuckles, huddling in closer. “There’s still a few hours to supper. We’ll have it all to rights in plenty of time. I’m just happy that we’ve given Mark plenty of meaty food for thought on that winding road back to Cornwall.” Then those beautiful brown eyes grow soft with love.

“So beloved…….just exactly how long have we been about………this now?” Bending his silky dark head, Arthur bestows a slow, deep, rich kiss upon Kai’s lush mouth. “Today…….oh an hour or so………since the beginning……..one decade and one half…………the way my heart rejoices because I love you world without end……..since forever……..” 

Rippling his lips in a ticklish arc against Arthur’s throat, Kai feels his cock becoming emboldened again, intrepidly delving for Arthur’s prick. “Well, it gets better every time my love.” Arthur grins slyly, snakes forward, straightening his knee…..

“Oh.” Kai’s smile glows like burnished molten sunrise. “That was a miraculous reawakening Arthur of the West.” 

Winding his nimble swordsman’s fingers around Kai’s flaming length, Arthur whispers tenderly so that Kai simply melts. “About getting better every time……….the best is always yet to come for us my heart”………. and he lowers his ravenous mouth to that sprouting, golden shaft………..

Meanwhile, Mark rides determinedly homewards, gritting his teeth in rabid frustration, still knowing he has been thoroughly duped yet unsure how, counting the hapless arses he will savagely kick once back on Cornish soil. 

Then suddenly Mark laughs out loud, alarming the young warrior beside him who was about to enquire if his lord would like to make camp for the night. That bloody clever pair. Goosing him again. Once, he had hinted of his suspicions to Eithna who had looked at him as if he was completely deranged – a man who had accomplished Kai’s astonishing feats during their legendary night of passion………Never! And as for handsome, comely-arsed Arthur………her scoffing snort of laughter was answer enough.

But Mark grins ruefully. He knows what he knows, even if Arthur and Kai might not know exactly that he knows. One day, he vows silently, one day he will be lurking, waiting to spring at just the right brazen moment – and then we shall see…….


End file.
